The Needles and the Haystack
POETRY-I kept wondering if she was a better lover than me.
This was originally published by Passion Fruit Review (2023).
The Needles and the Haystack
This morning in my room I saw a haystack
its scattered string hairs piled in a sloppy hill
resting so lazily and soft
and with its needles
ten of them at least
wedged inside a dream,
it carried on its slumber.
I was counting like I do
with my microscope
in my head hand
all my broken needles.
You were lying next to me in your sleep coma
and I, shivering like a small child
was being ravaged by a tsunami
I couldn’t hold alone.
I kept wondering if she was a better lover than me.
I want to know if my ocean is worthy.
But what I really want-
is to plant the garden and
wait in wonder
while I discover the rose.
I want to remember my fetus-
how she gave herself those nine months
and I want to stop it-
this terrible beating
I want to be the slumbering haystack.
I would like to be you, my love
nesting in my hair
not finding my needles.